


One More Round

by CJ_Walker



Series: CJ's Corner for Pearlina Short Stories [4]
Category: Splatoon
Genre: Drinking/Intoxication, F/F, First Meetings, Fluff and Humor, Pre-Relationship, Swearing, human!AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 12:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18717193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJ_Walker/pseuds/CJ_Walker
Summary: Pearl is angry about some angsty life event, and just wants the bartender to give her her usual rounds so she can get black-out drunk and forget about her pain and sorrows.Originally a Tweet-Fic, transcribed from Twitter.





	One More Round

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pinkink](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pinkink/gifts).



> As I fight through another terrible writer's block for IGYB, I realized I never uploaded this. This was a tweet-fic, written for Pinkink in February '19, based loosely off of a dream she had. This is indeed the most informal, unpolished thing I have ever written, and I have done little changes from the original tweet thread to this transcription on Ao3.
> 
> Also, I'm of age, but I personally do not drink so just... spare me some grace with this lol.
> 
> Anyways, here ya go!

Imagine Pearl, barging into the local bar, a place she frequents quite often. She pissed off about some angsty life event, and just wants the bartender to give her her usual rounds so she can get black-out drunk and forget about her pain and sorrows.

 

Only, the bartender who normally serves her isn't there, and she is instead met with the sight of someone else…

 

It's a tall, young-looking woman who is busy effortlessly twirling cups and bottles in her hands, pouring wine, beer and vodka into glasses of various sizes, putting on a show for the patrons waiting for their drinks in awe at the bar. Everyone, including Pearl, is mesmerized, watching as the bartender made the liquids flow in streams and rivers throughout the air in elegant patterns; apparently gravity was a figment of their imagination. The bartender flashes a quick smile to her patrons as she slid them their drinks. They were a rowdy, loud young group, already tipsy from their first few drinks, eagerly snatching up their next round of shots. She dipped her head politely, and turned to the sink to wash up, keeping her area very neat and orderly.

 

Insert Pearl, plopping down on a bar stool, a bit further away from the other patrons. With an irritated sigh, she leans over the counter and props her head up with a closed first.

  
"I'll take whatever the hell you gave them." She mutters.

 

The bartender, who is drying a pristine glass with a white towel, turns and faces Pearl, her expression contorting in quiet confusion. "...Pardon?" She asks, placing the now dry glass back onto the stack with the others.

 

Pearl beckons her head to the group of rowdy patrons who's laughter was now obnoxiously loud. "Them over there," she clarifies, "They're drunk as all hell, and I need in on that right now."

 

The bartender raises a questioning eyebrow, her gaze shifting over Pearl's thin, petite form. "Do you have ID?" She questions, to which Pearl groans in annoyance. Pearl was not in the mood for this, she just wanted her damn drinks. Where was Tim, her usual server? He always knew _exactly_ what she wanted without Pearl having to say a single word.

 

"Look," Pearl begins, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. "I come here a lot, the guys here know me. I'm of age." She absolutely hated that people always questioned that, due to her less-than-convincing stature. She was legal, damn it!

 

The bartender waffled on her toes a bit, her green eyes -- were those contacts? -- darting to the side before coming back to Pearl.

 

"I'm sorry but... No ID, no service." She states, and Pearl runs and hand through her short, blonde hair with a throaty grunt.

 

"Fuckin'... fine, whatever..." Pearl reaches down to her pocket, grabbing for her wallet, but is soon meet with the disturbing feeling of the soft cotton within her jeans, and nothing more. "...shit." She mutters under her breath, her scouting hands turning frantic and she starts to double and triple check all four of her pockets. "Are you _kidding_ me right now."

 

Where the hell was her wallet?

 

Wait a minute…

 

She particularly patted her front left pocket, her golden eyes -- Pearl couldn’t talk, she also was wearing contacts -- narrowing in deep thought.

 

Where the hell was her phone?!

 

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" She yells, slapping the heel of her palm into her forehead. With an winded, angry sigh, she crosses her arms against the bar and buries her head within them.

 

Today had already been so terrible, and now she lost both her wallet _and_ her phone?

 

She was not in the mood for any of this.

 

The hard, dense sound of something heavy hitting the counter she was laying on caught Pearl's attention, pulling her out of her cloudy thoughts. The surface gently rumbled underneath her, the object sliding nearer until it stopped when it bumped into her shoulder. Cautiously, Pearl raised her head, and was surprised to see that there was a full glass now sitting in front of her. Slowly, she pushed herself up from the bar, her gaze flicking up to meet the bartender's. The taller woman's eyes glittered with a light humor as a dark-skinned hand gestured to the drink before her.

 

"If anyone asks, you didn't get it from me." She says, wiping down the bar in circular motions with another towel.

 

Pearl blinked at her a few times, thoroughly stunned, before releasing a stifled snort from the back of her throat. "Not a chance, thanks." She quickly snatched the glass and hastily gulped down the bronze liquid within mere seconds.

 

Huh. Turns out, it was the heavy-hitting beer named the “Booyah Bomb”, just the drink she would've asked for had this been her regular circumstances.

 

"Gonna need more than that," Pearl gasped eventually, setting the cup down and sliding it over to the other woman. She couldn't help but smirk when she saw the look of genuine shock and awe residing on the other's face.

 

Without breaking eye contact, the bartender returned the smirk as her hands effortlessly reached for a new glass and filled it up. Pearl was almost certain that she could do these little bar tricks blindfolded, if she really wanted to. The motions seemed to come so naturally to her.

 

"I have to be honest," The soft-spoken woman started, setting down the freshly filled cup in front Pearl. "That was... pretty impressive. More than what most of the guys I serve here can take."

 

Pearl grunted at the comment, disinterested that it indirectly alluded to the fact that she was smaller than everyone else. She eagerly took more gulps from the glass, this time however stopping when it reached halfway. With a poignant, content sigh, Pearl idly looked up to the flashing TV above the bar. Did anyone ever even watch those?

 

"Long day?" The bartender offered, her hands busing themselves with tiny, monotonous tasks.

 

Pearl huffed sarcastically. "The absolute shittiest." She took another sip, eyeing the other out from behind the brim of the glass. "But I'd imagine you get that a lot around here."

 

She received an idle shrug. "Yeah. Comes with the job and whatnot. Call me a part-time therapist, if you will.”

 

Pearl hummed in acknowledgment, the fingers from her free hand drumming gently against the counter. "So, you new around here? Tim normally takes my orders-- I don't think I've ever seen you, uh...?"

 

"Marina." The other girl fills in, "And you must be Pearl, correct?" She received a hesitant, confused nod from the smaller girl. "Tim let me know about you ahead of time." Marina quickly added. "He said that you were one of his favorite regulars, and that you liked to start on the strong end of our drinks, so that’s why I started you with BB."

 

Pearl nodded slowly, indulging in another sip from the bubbly bronze beer. "Where is he anyway?"

 

Marina curled some lose strands of hair behind her ear, leaning over the counter to take Pearl's now empty cup. "Newly fired, apparently." She answered, fetching for another clean glass. "Something about him getting drunk while on the clock and yelling and running around the bar with a weird dog shirt on." Marina laughed quietly. "I don't know the exact details, but I was called over from my bar on the other side of town to be his replacement."

 

Pearl gave a light laugh through her nose, "Wow, I didn't think he was that kind of guy, but I guess I was was wrong." She quietly observed this... Marina person as she washed out the cup, inspecting it to make sure it was cleaned to perfection after she was done.

 

Suddenly, another patron staggered up, garbling in complete gibberish about more drinks. Marina politely dipped her head to Pearl, redirecting her attention to the loud, intoxicated man.

 

The smaller girl couldn't help but snicker under her breath as she watched a flash of annoyance cross over Marina's eyes. Marina herself was cool, collected and cordial however, helping the man by tending to his wants for yet another beer, but Pearl could see right through her.

 

After giving his requests, Marina began to walk her way back over to the sink to wash her hands. "Hey, don't forget about me," Pearl joked, waggling her blonde eyebrows. "I want 'nother round, too."

 

Marina stared down to the sitting girl as if she had suddenly grew a second head. "...A _third_ round?" She echoed in disbelief. "...Don't you know just how _strong_ Booyah Bombs are?"

 

"Uh, yeah." Pearl blinked her eyes rapidly, shaking off the tingling feeling rising up to her head. "But this time, give me the “Stingray”. I need somethin' that'll shoot right through my blood."

 

Marina's brow furrowed pensively, looking as if she wanted to argue and express her concern for such a lucrative request but alas, she complied. Pearl was her patron after all, and it was her job to serve her up whatever she pleased.

 

"...You got a safe ride home, shortstack?" She questioned playfully, reaching for a large, slender orange bottle on the wall rack.

 

Pearl gripped the counter with one hand while the other went to her lips in a fist in an attempt to politely mask the sound of her digestive track. "Yeah, I gotta... uhh..." She blanked on her words, forgetting her train of thought. Like, the train just straight up stopped and dumped her off on the side of the road.

 

With a few quick shakes of her short blonde hair, Pearl was able to clear the building fog from her brain.

 

"...Yeah, I gotta ride."

 

\--

 

Pearl, in fact, _did not_ have a ride.

 

Struggling to unlock her front door, Marina staggers into her apartment and quickly kicks the door shut with the back of her foot. "I cannot believe you." She murmurs to the form leaning against her, shuffling her grip on the slender arm around her waist. "I _warned_ you that you were ordering too many! I’m surprised you’re even still standing!"

 

Pearl grumbled incoherently, her legs wobbling as she continued to grumble disconnected cuss words under her breath. " _guh_... f-fuckin.... punk ass..." Her glazed-over eyes suddenly went wide when she saw a stout figure cautiously waddle over to her.

 

Pearl suddenly jerks away from Marina's shoulder, her balance completely thrown, causing her to land on her rear with a hard thud. "What the fuuuuck is _that?!_ " She draws out, squishing her palms to her cheeks.

 

"Oh my gosh-" Marina drops a weighted sigh, stooping down to try and regather the intoxicated girl. "That's just my dog, Pearl."

 

It was a large, muscular, black and brown male with curious, piercing green eyes. Adorned along his muzzle and back were cross-shaped scars, a permanent reminder of his previous scrap-yard life before Marina found and rescued him. Well, "recused" might be a bit of a stretched term. More like, he stubbornly refused to leave Marina's side after she fed him a biscuit upon the first time seeing him sniffing around throughout the alley way, looking for discarded food and other edible scraps.

 

But sure, let’s say “rescued” for simplicity's sake.

 

He was a rather disobedient thing, always doing what he pleased whenever he pleased, but over all, he was a good dog, a good boy. Perhaps a bit too over-protective of Marina on occasions, but his company was appreciated, regardless. Marina found his severe attitude to be oddly charming.

 

The wary dog took a few steps forward, carefully sniffing at the new guest. He then outstretched his neck, drawing out a long pink tongue to give a cautious lick to Pearl's face. Pearl flinched at the wet sensation, her hands flailing in the air in panic. "Marinaaaa!" She gasped lethargically. "Help! I'm drowning!!"

 

The large dog immediately recoiled with a grunt, his triangular-flopped black ears flattening against his broad head. He looked over to Marina and tipped his head to the side, the two brown circles above his brow furrowing together.

 

"D-Don't look at me like that, Octavio!" Marina chastised, her face warming with heat. "I know what it looks like, but I just couldn't leave her there! She lost her phone and wallet and had no way of getting home, so we’re having a impromptu.... guest for the night."

 

Octavio gave her a long, blank stare before he shook his head with a displeased sneeze. He then plodded over to pick up a pink octopus toy laying on the floor, gently holding it within his jowls. It was his favorite toy, and the only one he had that wasn't completely destroyed.

 

Glancing over to Marina out of the corner of his eye, Octavio pointedly turned his rump towards her and wiggled his little stump of a tail at her before padding away to the bedroom, his claws gently scraping against the wooden floor as he went.

 

The blatant disrespect.

 

Rolling her eyes, Marina returned her attention to Pearl, who was sprawled out like a starfish, blankly staring up at the ceiling.

 

"Yo... are fingers just hand-legs, or are our legs just fingers for our torso?"

 

Marina slapped her hand to her forehead. "Oh-kay, _that's_ enough, c'mon." Shuffling her arm around Pearl’s shoulders more, she helped the drunken girl up and began to lead them to the nearby bedroom.

 

With some struggling, Marina managed to hoist Pearl into her bedroom. Octavio was lying on the large master bed, the pink octopus nestled between his stout paws as he gently mouthed at the toy. He lifted his head in surprise as Marina maneuvered the loopy girl on top of the covers.

 

"...Puh... penguins aren't even real birds." Pearl mumbled out as Marina tried to make her as comfortable as possible. "Like, they can't even fly sooo..."

 

Marina rolled her eyes again, patting the plush pillows down. "There," She said pointedly, ignoring Pearl's weird notions. "You can crash in here for tonight."

 

Pearl shook her head from side to side. "My fuckin' head hurts!" She exclaimed.

 

That prompted a dark eyebrow raise in the air. "And who's fault is that, hm?" Marina murmured with a small smirk.

 

"Yours! _Duh!"_ Pearl folded her arms across her chest and pouted, glaring up to Marina. "If you weren't so cute, then maybe I wouldn't have kept asking for drinks just so I could continue talking to you." She huffed, her blood-shot eyes drifting off to focus on nothing and everything at the same time. "...damned... cheat codes..." Her eyes soon drifting closed in exhaustion as she was quickly losing the will to fight off her fatigue.

 

Marina blushed upon hearing Pearl's mumbled, barely cohesive words. She was almost fairly certain that Pearl couldn't comprehend what she was saying, but it still made Marina cheeks tingle with heat regardless.

 

Because If she were to be completely honest... she thought Pearl was rather cute as well.

 

The disdainful chuff from the other side of the bed caught her attention. Octavio was staring back at Marina, his green eyes narrowed as he pointed with a paw to Pearl's drunk body.

 

"I know, I know," Marina sighed. "But we can't sleep in here tonight." Standing back up at full height, she beckoned her head to the door. "C'mon, you and me will be rooming together on the couch."

 

Her companion grunted, seemingly unimpressed. He then turned his attention back to Pearl, who's eyes were still closed and mouth hung ajar. Standing to his paws on the bed, Octavio maneuvered himself to stand next to Pearl. Meeting Marina's eyes with a hard stare, he lifted a hind leg into the air, the little pink toy hanging innocently from his mouth.

 

Marina's teal eyes went wide with horror.

 

"Octavio..." She warned sternly, knowing her dog could make or break the situation in a matter of seconds. " _No_."

 

The black-furred leg raised a little higher into the air.

 

"OCTAVIO. NO SIR." Marina quickly lunged forward and snatched the toy from her dog's mouth. Octavio whined, his hind leg immediately returning down the bed as she looked up to his owner with the saddest puppy-dog eyes he could muster, whimpering all the while.

 

"Oh, don’t give me that." Marina countered, swiftly pointed to the floor. "Down." Octavio's lips curled back slightly with a disbelieving growl, briefly glancing back to Pearl. He shook his hefty head once with another sneeze. "If you want Mr. DJ," Marina began, referring to the pink octopus, "Get down off of the bed and go to the living room."

 

Octavio's green eyes flashed with several conflicting emotions, but eventually, he did as he was told, although he grumbled underneath his breath to show he wasn't happy about it.

 

"Thank you." Marina smiled, stooping down to offer him a pat on the head. Octavio's eyes lit up as she offered him back his beloved toy. He gently licked Marina's hand, his stubby tail wiggling about and took hold of the pink octopus within his maw. Without further argument, he padded his way out of the room to follow through with his owner's orders.

 

Pushing herself off her knees, Marina reached for the bedroom door and began to pull it close, but not before casting one more look at her... unprecedented house guest.

 

Pearl was completely knocked out, her snoring somehow even louder than Octavio's. One of her legs hung off the bed with her shoe halfway off while her arms were outstretched above her as if she was falling.

 

Marina rolled her eyes playfully before quietly closing the door completely, turning the knob so that it would not _click_ shut.

 

She didn't know Pearl that well, the two had literally just met only a few hours prior, yet…

 

She couldn't help but feel that this wouldn't be the last time this weird, hot-headed little girl would be crashing at her place.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I despise writing blocks :')


End file.
